Building Bridges
by devilishlysas
Summary: Just couldn’t wait to put up a response to the amazing events in Let it Bleed 4x14 , so here’s a one-shot of what I’m sure will be a few. Starts off directly after the end scene in 'Let it Bleed'. Sylar/Claire


**Building Bridges**

By devilishlysas

Rating: PG-13 (mostly implied)

Summary: Just couldn't wait to put up a response to the amazing events in Let it Bleed (4x14), so here's one of what I'm sure will be a few. Sylar/Claire

Disclaimer: not mine, but don't I wish it was.

Spoilers: Season 1-4 (lots for Upon this Rock and Let it Bleed, obviously) :P

The image of her face burned into his mind, just like it branded his skin; pushing the offending limb behind his back and out of his sight he lowered himself to the ground. Sylar's steps were purposeful as he brushed past the campus night security, projecting the image of a student into their minds... nothing suspicious; nothing like the truth of a fully grown man dressed in black stalking towards the girl's dormitories with a crazed look in his eyes.

He brushed past the students another nameless face; his eyes finding one in particular as he fell into place behind her, watching her dark hair swinging against her back, her arms laden with books. A single flick of his finger and she was dropping them in a heap with an exasperated sigh as she stooped to collect them, avoiding the feet of students unconcerned and unwilling to help.

"Here." Sylar crouched down and handed her the books, his small soft feminine voice almost surprising him; when had he shifted? He didn't need the charade, could have pulled open her window with ease, but there was something alluring about being invited into her room voluntarily.

"Claire!" the girl exclaimed, dropping the books again and instead grasping him in a bone crushing hug, seeing his apparent form, he wondered what Freud would say about shifting into the body of the thing you most desired, or did it speak for itself? He pulled her close, absorbing memories and thoughts like a sponge from her. "You should have called me when you got back!"

Sylar smirked, pulling his now slight form away from her, "Sorry. I just didn't feel like talking to anyone."

"Right... right, sorry I," The girl, Gretchen, his various abilities informed him, looked apologetic, "How was the funeral? Was it awful, all those people? Sorry I shouldn't have mentioned it; like you'd want to come back here and talk about it now." She shook her head seemingly berating herself for being so inconsiderate.

"I'm fine." Sylar informed her quietly, retrieving the books from the floor and handing them to her one after the other, picking up a single heavy text to hold himself. "Shall we go up; I really just want to be away from people right now."

Gretchen gave him a soft understanding look and led the way, they stopped at the dorm room and Sylar paused, staring at the bland door, covered in flyers and notes. The real Claire was sleeping fitfully inside... something about that gave him comfort. The idea that she grieved for Nathan, that she hated Noah and Angela for what they'd done... that she was afraid again knowing _he_ was still out there.

"Could you get the door Claire?" Gretchen asked struggling with her books.

"Shoot. I forgot my keys." He muttered, pretending to check his pockets and looking apologetically back at her. Gretchen smiled angling her hip towards her presenting the pocket containing her keys. Sylar suppressed the smirk, the girl had it bad. He stepped forwards, trapping Gretchen between her books and the wall, inching too close to be completely comfortable angling his head just so, finding his sudden drop in height irritating as he slid his hands to her waist. Predictably the smitten girl sucked in a breath and dropped her eyes to his lips, all she'd need to do was bite down on them and he'd take the invitation. Sliding his fingers into her jeans pocket he made a show of it, pressing the flat of his other hand against her clothed stomach and looking up at her through dark lashes. 'Who knew Claire could be such a tease?' he smirked tugging the keys free and sliding beside the now thoroughly flustered, somewhat hapless roommate and slipping them into the lock.

It was about to get interesting.

He held the door open for Gretchen smiling quietly as she brushed close in passing, her eyes fixed on his face instead of the sleeping evidence of his deception; as he followed her in and slid the door shut just as Gretchen turned to the room.

"Claire!" she cried in surprise, the books dropping yet again with a heavy thud as the noise of the impact jolted Claire awake. It was almost comical, that moment where Gretchen stood her mouth open, eyes wide, flicking between the two of them in surprise and steadily increasing panic.

"Gretch?" Claire murmured, darting to her feet and staring between the two of them; her expression hardening as it fell on his disguised form. "Gretch get away from her."

"Says the other potential imposter." Gretchen muttered, backing away from both of them, her recent decision to stay as Claire's roommate swimming in her mind and quickly being reconsidered.

"Sylar!" Claire snarled, her lip practically curling as she said it, her green eyes shining like carved emeralds as they sliced into him.

"The serial killer?" Gretchen practically whimpered, further putting distance between them until she hit the wall and slid along it, her eyes not leaving his false face. "Terrific." She managed weakly looking faintly ill. He felt the smirk twist his, now Claire's, lips and watched as Gretchen flinched at the expression he wore, knowing it had no place on that face.

"Leave her alone!" Claire hissed, stalking forwards instead of away; getting between the two of them. Not that it required much for her to redirect his attention... breathing probably would have been just as effective.

"What are you doing here?" Claire continued her harsh tone dripping with suppressed rage that couldn't help but send a tingle of anticipation along his spine, these little meetings always went so much better when she was furious with him. "Come to gloat!" she spat, her hands fisting as she entertained the idea of using them to smash the smug look off his face; even if it was currently hers. "And get the hell out of my shape!" she added as if that were secondary.

Obligingly Sylar felt his skin ripple as pain lashed at him, he grimaced, keeping the thin lipped smile in place as he slid into his own form, towering down at her. Now she did take a step back, just a single one, but a step none the less.

"You killed Nathan." She threw at him, almost daring him to deny it.

He cocked his head at her, "A while ago... right after that wonderful time we spent alone together in the hotel room." He quirked an eyebrow at her, ignoring Gretchen's small gasp of surprise at the insinuation, enjoying the heated flush that came to Claire's cheek.

"You're a bastard." She told him with feeling, "But I had nothing to do with what they did to you. I'd have just killed you and been done with it." Claire admitted and he couldn't help but admire her honesty; after all she was potentially the only person he'd ever met that hadn't attempted to manipulate him. "What the hell do you want?" she bit off, keeping herself between him and her friend still; as if he was interested in the dark haired little waif now that he had _her_ attention.

"Now Claire." He chastised, stepping closer to her surprised and pleased when she didn't back away, holding her ground and raising her chin to stare him down. "That's no way to speak to a guest is it?" he chuckled at her disbelieving look.

"Oh my god!" Her breath hitched and she back-peddled away from him quickly, all but backing into Gretchen who grasped her hand tightly in response. Puzzled Sylar followed her gaze and grimaced. "Is that a tattoo of me?" Flexing the offending arm he slid it behind his back once again and lifted his dark eyes to her face, trying to ignore the disgust she was aiming at him.

Sylar chose to ignore her little outburst and slid fully into the room, claiming it as he slid onto her bed, stretching out and placing his hands behind his head, staring up at the blank ceiling.

"And here I was expecting a 'Hello Kitty' poster." He quipped offhandedly, before turning to pin her with his gaze.

"Get out!" she barked, stepping forwards once again. "Now!" she snarled when he merely remained there.

"Not until I get what I came for." Her face whitened and Gretchen clutched at her hand, attempting to claw her friend back to safety. Images and memories of the last time he'd said that swam through her mind giving her reason to fear him once more.

"You have my ability. Or don't you remember attacking me?" her voice came out as more of a hiss than anything, "I don't have anything else you can take; so get out!" her anger fuelled her bravery and she hurled the closest thing to her at him... sadly it was Gretchen's pillow which he caught deftly sending Claire a wolfish grin that only thinned her lips in response.

"Oh but you have so many more..." Sylar paused is eyes raking over her, not bothering to conceal the newly realised desire, "talents." He settled on.

Claire's expression turned from furious, to disgusted loathing, he almost wished it didn't make her look quite so delectable, because he was all too tempted to see that look again; but that would be counterproductive to his 'new' plan.

"Sadly for you Sylar, putting up with your shit is not one of my many _talents_." she spat, her confidence growing now that he'd made no overly aggressive moves and had, so far, left Gretchen intact.

Sylar sat up swinging his legs around to sit on the side of her bed, facing them fully once more. "Play nicely Claire... or I won't." Her mouth snapped shut obligingly as she shot Gretchen a concerned look. "Good girl." He smiled quietly at her and noticed the shudder it drew along her spine with mild interest.

"Why are you here Sylar, or is it just to torment me?" her question was quiet, dignified even so he gave it thought.

"Tell me Claire, how do you feel about building some of those bridges we talked about?"

Her eyes widened; but she was quicker than he'd often given her credit for. "Fine we'll talk, after Gretchen leaves... unharmed." Claire clearly felt the need to qualify the terms of that last part.

Sylar chuckled. "And risk this pleasant civility?" he gave her shit eating grin that had Gretchen squeezing her hand tighter; the poor girl looked close to collapsing her legs were shaking so badly. "Why don't you have a seat Gretch." He remarked, flicking his hand at her and taking control, one wooden step after another under Claire's hateful glare he moved her friend until she was sat on the edge her own bed, facing him. Claire hesitated only a moment before following his unspoken command and sat beside her friend, taking her hand and holding it quietly at her side. It was almost sweet. With Gretchen here, vulnerable and completely at risk, Claire was far less likely to attempt any theatrics.

"Where did you get your tattoo?" Claire broke the silent staring contest between the three of them, dropping Gretchen's hand to cross her arms defensively in front of her. Sylar raised his forearm and glanced at it; wishing he'd had the sense to grab a jacket to cover it.

"A Carnival." He replied quirking an eyebrow at her.

"Why am I not surprised Samuel got his hooks into you as well." Claire muttered, her thoughts momentarily drifting away to her suspicions about the old carnie. Sylar saw an opportunity.

"We've talked." Sylar admitted. "I stayed with them for a brief time, a nice..._family._" he snorted in derision at her quaint idea that she could have ever belonged there. "He's an interesting man, Samuel." He guided the conversation carefully, watching as she tensed mildly, reconfirming his suspicions. "With some interesting ideas."

Claire rolled her eyes, "Figures you'd be the one to side with him... I'm sure it'll mean no good for the rest of us."

Sylar smirked, leaning forwards, his forearms on his knees enjoying the close up position. "Well now," he began unable to keep the glint out of his eye as she stared trying to figure out what he was up to; "that brings me to those bridges."

"I'm listening." She snapped, sounding for all the world like she really couldn't care less what he was saying, merely humouring him in the hope that he'd leave sooner rather than later.

Sylar stretched out his hand and Claire's back went ram rod straight, Gretchen flinched when Claire stood and one slow, torturous movement after another she eased herself onto the bed beside him. Sylar released his ability over her body and slid his arm around her shoulder, feeling how her whole form was trembling with rage and the suppressed urge to struggle free. Bending his head to her ear he absorbed the scent of her, she always smelled like vanilla and sunshine; he closed his eyes, enjoying the moment and ignoring the way her nails cut into the back of the hand he'd placed on her thigh.

"Samuel is planning something big Claire... something that will change the world for people like us. Maybe for the better." he admitted shrugging slightly, "Maybe not." He smirked as he lifted his head from her ear and met her piercing gaze. "He might just destroy the whole damn world in the process." Gretchen whimpered but Claire's gaze remained fixed on his, as if she was finally seeing him. "But you and I Claire, well I'm certain that whatever the outcome, we'll live through it... won't we?" Claire's expression fell slightly, but he of course saw it. Faster than she could avoid it he caught her chin in his hand and held her steady, enjoying the feel of her soft skin... Lydia was right, just like a baby's.

"We'll find a way to stop him, to stop what he's planning." Claire told him firmly, meaning of course her, her family, her super powered friends.

"Who Claire?" he questioned. "Who'll stop him... certainly not his little cult of freaks; they'll stand by him, even if it kills them." Peter's name hovered on the edge of her tongue and she swallowed it. "Oh yes Pete." He muttered, "The boy scout will try I'm sure... and get himself killed for his troubles."

"Hiro and..." she began, but he cut her off with a finger against her lips, which she attempted to withdraw from and he was forced to shut down her movement with an ability.

"Hiro is dying... if not dead already." Sylar informed her quietly, genuinely sorry that the chances of acquiring that particular ability were almost slim to non now.

"My Dad will stop it, the Company, the Government!" she declared even with his finger pressed to her lips, quite certain of the fact; smug almost.

"They're merely human Claire. They couldn't even keep you from taking their plane down, do you really think they'll be able to stop an entire army of people with abilities," her eyes widened, "because that's what Samuel has, an entire army Claire, willing to die to defend their homes, their way of life." She fell quiet, staring hatefully at him, unable to disguise the growing fear rising inside her chest. "Then there is Samuel himself." Sylar watched her interest pique at that. "You do realise that Samuel can manipulate the electromagnetic forces that all 'specials' produce. The more of them there are in any one place, the more powerful he becomes."

Claire stared mutely back at him, as he inched closer until his face was only inches from hers, close enough that he could taste the breath that fanned out over his face, enough to have to force down a wave of desire, now wasn't the time for that.

"Why are you telling me all this?" she asked quietly, the slight tremble in her voice giving away her nervous state.

"Bridges Claire." He smirked and she swallowed uneasily not daring to take her eyes from his face.

"Why don't you ask me Claire?" he pressed and she hesitated unsure what he was getting at, before it dawned and her confusion only doubled, "There's no harm in asking is there Claire; no shame in knowing when you need help?"

"You'd never help us." Claire told him quietly assured of the fact; she was utterly still now, he didn't need to hold her with anything, it was almost like she was facing down a dangerous wild animal, that any movement might startle him in to attacking.

"No..." he admitted inching a fraction closer so that their lips were almost brushing and she drew in a shaky breath, trying not to take another. "But I might be persuaded to help _you_."

Her expression grew closed, almost shrewd whilst she stared coolly at him, analysing. "And how exactly would you have me persuade you?"

Sylar couldn't help but smile, college had been good for her it seemed, there was no beating around the bush, no confusion; she didn't even assume he'd want anything other than _her_ persuasion.

"I've recently had a crisis of identity Claire," he admitted, "I guess that happens when your soul is torn out of your body and your consciousness filled with another man's mind." Claire's eye twitched fractionally at the reminder of Nathan, so he pressed on. "It's left me with some, unusual desires."

Her expression darkened as her mind immediately took his comments to the gutter and he couldn't help but admire how she twisted them. "For a family Claire." He qualified, but apparently that idea was even worse than the gutter because she had to fight back a wave of nausea. "A home, someone to love me."

"You're a monster." She breathed quietly, but with no less sting to her words. "No one could ever love you."

Sylar felt his gut clench and he flung his hand out, Gretchen let out a short yelp in pain and thrashed wildly whilst he held her throat tightly in his invisible grip.

"No stop!" Claire yelled, trying to launch at him but he stopped her dead.

"I suggest you consider carefully Claire." He snarled drawing her eyes back to him and away from her struggling friend.

Claire seemed to do just that, her eyes flicking between the two of them, before settling finally on him when she realised Gretchen was merely panicking and not in any real danger of asphyxiation. Sylar could hear the cogs turning in her mind, the silent arguments and bursts of hateful cursing for him.

"People can change Claire." He commented trying to help her thought process along, "If they have reason enough to." Which was true enough, and he was changed wasn't he? He couldn't kill, didn't want to... was that Nathan's influence? Or was it deeper than that, a response to the loss of everything that had made him _him_, forcing him to ask awkward questions about souls, and the state of his own.

"Even if that were true." Claire responded finally. "It wouldn't change what you'd done, couldn't erase any of it!"

Sylar closed his eyes, fighting his own anger at her obtuseness.

"It's a start Claire!" he snarled. "I can at least attempt to atone, try saving the damn world for once... be the fucking hero!"

But she was looking at him like she doubted he truly had it in him.

"If you were really a hero. You'd do it because it was the _right_ thing to do, not because you wanted something in return!" she turned her head away from his, apparently disgusted with him and he was so surprised that he forgot to block her movement.

"I'm just a man Claire, not a saint." He replied, reaching out his hands to catch her face cradling it as he forced her eyes on his again. "Don't you see Claire." He argued earnestly, "You could help me; I could be a better man for you."

"You don't deserve to be a better man." She threw at him snidely and he almost couldn't help but agree.

"Is your anger... your hatred really worth the whole world Claire?" he pointed out his fingers gripping her face too tightly. Claire swallowed closing her eyes, a single tear escaped and he brushed his thumb over it. But her resistance was impressive, he'd thought her noble streak would have had her accepting his offer by now, but she hated him almost too much to care.

"Think about it Claire," he whispered leaning close to her so that the stubble beginning on his cheek brushed hers as he pressed his lips to her temple, having to exert more force than he'd ever needed on anyone to hold her still. "I could be your monster... yours to command, if you wanted it." A sob escaped her and he felt a smile twist his lips as her resistance waivered, he'd do it as well, willingly get on his hands and knees and beg her to take him, to love him. She was worth the pain and humiliation of it; worth anything if she could quiet the demons in his soul, even if it was only whilst he was in her arms.

"Please Claire." He pleaded, sliding his arms around her and holding her to him, releasing her from his ability and trusting his strength alone to keep her there. She struggled of course, trying to pull away, until she realised it was fruitless and her sobs increased, her nails scoured the flesh on his side and back beneath the shirt, but he didn't relent. "Just give me this; even a monster deserves the chance to change." He would say repent, but he wasn't entirely sure he could, wasn't sure he regretted it all, not if it was what had brought him here, to her; able to be the man she needed now, powerful enough to be the hero.

"I need time." Claire murmured; her head buried against his chest.

Sylar nodded, feeling relief, it wasn't a dismissal; not outright. Sylar pulled away, sliding swiftly to his feet and leaving her sat with her head bowed, arms clutched around herself, whilst Gretchen collapsed gasping for breath and rolling off the bed as far away from him as possible.

"Don't think too long on it Claire. Given enough time and 'specials'... even I might not be able to stop Samuel."

Claire nodded mutely, examining the floor beside his feet thoroughly; silent tears slipping down her cheeks. Sylar made his mind up quickly unwilling to let the moment end; he shot forwards catching her chin and forcing it upwards in the same moment as his lips pressed over hers. For one brief shining moment he felt like he had finally found a home, the feel of her heart thudding wildly against his chest, her flushed skin, the taste of her mouth as his tongue swept inside, before sucking on one soft plump lip. This was his destiny, this was where he belonged.

The pain erupted in his eye and he let out a screech of agony, spinning away from her and trying to identify the source of the pain; the little witch had shoved a pen in his eye!

"Gretchen!" Claire yelled; there was scrambling noises and he stood quietly, opening his good eye and watching Claire usher Gretchen out of the door. Before turning back to stare at him one last time; looking momentarily surprised to see him standing upright, utterly still, merely watching her whilst blood dripped down from the wound in his ruined eye.

"I won't give up, you can't fight destiny." His words struck a chord with her even as she slammed the door between them for the moment, fleeing from him, his final harshly whispered words sounding just like the promise they were.

"See you soon Claire."


End file.
